


Impact

by Esgalnen



Category: New Avengers (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of TV Episode 'Target', Angst with a Happy Ending, Concussion Reaction, F/M, Gen, Head Injury, Other, concussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 03:05:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15500931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esgalnen/pseuds/Esgalnen
Summary: Still reeling from Purdey's near death during 'Target' Gambit is involved in an accident and taken to a nearby hospital.  The doctor who treats him has her own history with John Steed, having met him almost ten years before.This is my first New Avengers story which sort of ran away with me.  And while I don’t mind criticisms, I would appreciate no flames or general nastiness.





	Impact

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own The New Avengers, nor the characters of Mike Gambit, Purdey, and John Steed. Sadly. They're the property of The Avengers (Film and TV) Enterprises, and this story is for entertainment purposes only.

 Impact

Gambit’s hands tightened around the steering wheel until the knuckles were white. The green eyes stared bleakly at the road ahead of him; in his head he was reliving that scene, Purdey’s head on his lap, the cold hard words, bitten off, “If she dies, I’ll hunt them down.”

And Steed’s answer, “We both will.” Said with Steed’s usual reassurance, but somehow this time Mike couldn’t feel it. In his head he glances down at the woman lying bonelessly quiet across his legs and swallows hard, he is so lost in his own thoughts, that he almost doesn’t see the child racing after the ball that has rolled into the road, and when he does he only has a split second to react, wrenching the steering wheel, so that the car misses her, he has a brief impression of wheat-gold hair, blue eyes and the ‘O’ shape of a frightened mouth before he sees the wall. His last coherent thought (for some time) is “Oh damn.”

The sounds were too bright; hands pawing at him that he wanted to shake off. Everything was a confused jumble, voices speaking over one another he couldn’t understand. Pain lanced through his skull and a groan emerged from between his lips. Hands cradling his head and he heard a gentle, but firm voice say, “It’s all right Mr Gambit; you’re going to be all right.” He was lying on his back and he could feel cool hands against his neck, “we're just going to immobilise your neck while we get you inside.” He felt an oxygen mask being slipped over his mouth and nose, a warm hand resting on his shoulder, “take it easy Mr Gambit. Everything will be all right.” Pain lanced through his skull as the gurney he was lying on jolted into movement. One eyelid was gently lifted and someone fired a laser into his brain; he moaned in protest, and then to his horror he felt them do it again to his other eye. Swallowing he wondered what other barbarities they had in store for him. Someone laid a hand on his shoulder again, “Apologies Mr Gambit.” The hand remained on his shoulder and he heard a female voice quietly speaking to someone, “Pupillary reaction normal. Just a moderate concussion I suspect.”

“Hmmm,” the other voice responded, “all right, Kasia. I defer to you.”

Gambit tried to open his eyes but could only force them open a fraction of an inch, before they slammed shut again. The hand squeezed his shoulder again, “easy, easy there Mr Gambit, my colleague is just going to give you an injection, it’ll take away the pain and let you sleep.”

He might have nodded, he wasn’t sure, there was a sharp pinch in the back of his hand and he felt cold fluid running into the vein. Just before everything faded away he heard the door open and heard the woman speak, “Beata, you foolish girl.”  Then his consciousness faded to black.

The woman sighed softly, “Can you put him to bed, Eric? My daughter and I need to talk and then I must make a telephone call.”

“As you wish Dr Nowak.” Eric nodded.

Putting her hand on the girl's back; the woman urged her from the room and just before the door closed Eric heard Dr Nowak’s light voice, “Now, Beata, we’re going to have a little talk about playing with your ball in the road-” before her voice was cut off.

Suitably chastened, Beata was sent away with one of the nursing sisters and taking a deep breath, Kasia picked up the receiver and dialled. The voice replied was as she remembered; cool, strong, and impossibly intoxicating. “Steed.”

“John, it’s Kasia.” The tone changed, the levity gone, the coolness remaining, “Yes, Kasia. How can I help?”

“I’ve picked up an associate of yours, a Mr Michael Gambit.” She spoke the full name, aware of the sudden pause and then the cool, suave voice returned, all warmth gone, just business.

“Where is he? What happened?”

“He had an altercation with a brick wall,” she replied as smoothly as she dared, “I’ve diagnosed a moderate concussion but I’m afraid the car is a write-off.”

“But Mr Gambit?”

“Should be fine in a couple of days,” Kasia replied, trying to match the coolness of her voice to his. “I guess you’ll want to come down.”

“It’ll have to be tomorrow,” Steed said firmly. “You still based at Marchant Hall?”

“Yes, John,” she replied, “have been since I qualified.”

“Good. We’ll see you tomorrow, Kasia.” She heard the receiver click and sighed softly to herself in relief. When Steed called her Kasia she usually didn’t have to worry. It was only when he addressed her by her full name Katarzyna that she knew she was in trouble.

Gambit fought his way up through suffocating darkness and forced open his eyelids. _Where the hell was he?_ Limewashed walls surrounded him and he blinked hazily up at the ceiling. Then he noticed the cross on the wall behind him and a puzzled frown creased his forehead. _A convent? A monastery? Wherever he was, he wasn’t staying._ Sitting up, he winced as a shaft of pain lanced through his head _._ Gritting his teeth he pushed back the covers and sat up, his head spun wildly and a soft groan emerged from between his lips. Throwing his legs over the side of the bed he forced himself to stand upright. The room spun alarmingly and he had to hold onto the metal bed frame. Eventually the room steadied enough for him to stagger to the door. Opening it he poked his head out into a long, dim corridor. He didn’t know where the hell he was; he only knew he had to get out of there.

Despite his best efforts the corridor dipped and swayed alarmingly so that it took all of his self-control to stay upright. He rounded the corner and saw the blurry figures at what looked like a Reception Area. Suddenly tense, he flattened himself against the wall, willing himself not to move, not to breathe. Closing his eyes he fought his body’s weakness and when he opened them again he was alone. Swallowing past the hard lump in his throat he was about to take another step forward when he felt a cool hand on his arm and a familiar voice spoke, “Mr Gambit, you really shouldn’t be out of bed.”

He turned his head round to stare into deep blue – almost violet eyes and managed to burble, “Got to get out – trapped.”

“No one’s trapping you, Mr Gambit,” the voice was soft, as if gentling a wild animal, “you had an accident. Remember?”

Mike tried to shake his head; but the movement was too much and he felt himself sliding down the wall. She swore under her breath, “Pierdolić,” or at least he thought she swore, and then he was lying on the tiled floor; his head in her lap. Forcing open heavy eyelids he stared up into her face, “Hi,” he muttered.

“Mr Gambit,” she sighed softly, “can we get you back to your room?”

He shook his head, gritting his teeth against the wave of pain that threatened to engulf him. Her cool hand on his neck gentled him again, “Then we’ll make you comfortable here, all right?”

He managed a faint nod, the movement taking straight back into unconsciousness. Kasia looked up and saw the three medical students staring aghast at her and behind them Eric Marchant.

“Should we move him back to his room?” The young man asked.

“No. I want a mattress, blankets and pillows brought here.” Kasia ordered.

“But he’ll be better in his room,” the second man insisted.

Kasia frowned at the young man, _Simon wasn’t it?_   She wasn’t sure that he had the temperament to work with damaged minds, but perhaps he could be educated.  Holding him in place with her almost indigo eyes, she spoke, “He’s fighting the sedation; and coupled with this he believes he’s trapped.  I’ve gained a modicum of trust – if I betray that trust then I’ve already lost.”

“It sounds awfully far-fetched,” this time it was the woman who spoke, “it’s only a small thing.”

“Yes, but he who cannot be trusted with small things; cannot be trusted with large ones.”

They went away muttering, clipboards pressed to their white coats. Eric came and laid a hand on her shoulder, “I’ll get the nursing staff to bring the items you need.”

“Thanks, Eric.” Kasia grinned up at him and then she was alone. Ever afterwards, Gambit would have confused impressions of the rest of that evening. He half woke realising that he was lying in a corridor, slowly he turned his head. A young woman was kneeling on the floor next to him; her nose buried in a book. Slowly he looked around, he seemed to be settled on a mattress and he could feel the pillow beneath his head. She glanced across at him and a smile curved the strong mouth, “Hey, are you back with us?”

He fought for a smile and must have partially succeeded as her own smile broadened, “What happened? Why am I lying on a mattress in a corridor?”

“You don’t remember?” She asked gently, and when he tentatively shook his head she explained “you had an episode. You were fighting the sedation and you didn’t want to go back to bed, so we made you comfortable here.”

“Oh,” Mike brought hand up to feel his face, “I I-I don’t-”

“Remember?” She nodded and then shrugged, “c’est la vie. _Now_ , can we get you back to your room?”

Mike grimaced and gave her a small nod. The woman rose to her feet, lithe and graceful as a cat. Within ten minutes a gurney was brought and lowered and he was eased onto it. The woman laid her hand on his arm and he closed his eyes in relief. “I don’t even know your name,” he murmured.

“Katarzyna,” she replied, “but most people call me Kasia.”

As Gambit was eased into bed he half awoke and a panicked expression crossed his face. Instantly Kasia had a firm grip on his hand and she was bending over him, violet eyes meeting green. “Easy, easy, you’re all right.”

His hand gripped hers in response and after a few minutes, Kasia felt his grip relax and he opened his eyes, “Better?” She enquired gently.

He nodded and then seemed to realise his hand was squashing hers, “Sorry,” he muttered.

“Understandable,” was Kasia’s only response, “would you like a drink and then you can go back to sleep.”

He nodded realising that his throat was parched. Kasia and another nurse raised the head of the bed a few inches and Kasia poured him a cup of water. “Drink slowly,” she ordered. He took a couple of mouthfuls and suddenly he was exhausted again, the last thing he remembered was Kasia’s hands gently removing the cup from his unresisting grasp.

 

_He is dreaming again. Purdey was  lying across his lap again, his hand on her shoulder; he can hear himself speaking, telling Steed, telling the universe that if Purdey dies then he would hunt the perpetrators down as if they were vermin and all bets were off. This time he doesn't hear Steed’s response because as he looks down he realises that Purdey's face is chalk white and as he moves his hand to her neck he suddenly realises with  growing horror that there is no pulse…_

_“No,” he hears himself say, and then the words are tumbling from his mouth, “No, no, no, no, no-”_

A cool hand was on his shoulder and he jerked into wakefulness. A shaft of moonlight poured across the end of the bed and he stared at it for a few moments before he realised he was lying in the bed and it had been a nightmare.

“Oh God,” he muttered, and slumped back onto the mattress.

“Nope, just me,” a familiar voice said and he heard the click of a light switch and found himself staring into the concerned face of Kasia. “Bad dreams?” She asked softly and when he couldn’t respond, merely handed him a damp flannel and said, “wipe your face.” Then she was gone, returning a few minutes later with cup of water. He drank it all and then she took his hand again, “want to go back to sleep?”

A slight shudder went through him and he closed his eyes, thinking that she’d be revolted but instead her grip on his hand remained and he heard the squeaking of the chair as she eased herself into it. Opening his eyes again, he felt relief swamp him. _It was just a dream. She was safe. She was safe._

“Who is Purdey?” Kasia’s voice was soft. Gambit slewed his head around to face her, a reassuring smile curved her strong mouth, “You were calling her name. Shouting it actually.”

“She’s a friend,” he began, swallowing against the lump in his throat. “A fellow agent, and a damned good one.”

“And someone you care about?” Kasia’s voice was gentle, but there was an edge of steel behind it.

“Of course!” Gambit retorted, and then had to clamp his lips together to keep anything else from spilling out. “All three of us care about one another.”

“Yes,” Kasia opined, “I gathered that. But it seems to me that you care for this Purdey a lot more.”

Gambit closed his eyes and felt the tears leak out from beneath the closed lids. Kasia’s grip tightened and she asked softly, “This woman you care about – is she dead?”

Gambit shook his head, fighting to hold back tears. Finally he found his voice, “No. No. We were just in a difficult situation-”

“And she almost died,” this time Gambit heard the steel in her voice. He swallowed again, opening his mouth to respond but nothing emerged and he realised to his shame and horror that he couldn’t seem to stop weeping. He thought that Kasia would be disgusted but instead he was gathered up in strong, warm arms and rocked as if he was a small child.

Eventually when the sobs had turned to sniffles, Kasia gently eased him back onto the pillows, “Feeling better?”

“I don’t know why you women say that crying helps, I feel dreadful,” he muttered.

“Think you can tell me what happened?” She asked gently.

Slowly, as if winched from great depth Gambit began to speak about their previous mission; telling Kasia that Ministry agents were dropping dead of natural causes either on leave, or just about to go. Discovering a pattern, all the clues lead back to the training range.  The ink pellets which were normally used by the mannequins had been mixed with a deadly poison by an enemy agent, “Name of Draker.” Gambit said morosely, and then he continued, “one hit meant death in a matter of hours.  Every agent who went through the training course who was hit died later, one even died during his physical. Then Purdey went through the Training Course-”

“And-” Kasia prompted compassionately.

“She got 99%,” Gambit responded, his eyes far away. “Steed and I raced round to her flat and she appeared fine – and then she collapsed. It only takes one to kill-” Gambit swallowed again, “then it was a frantic drive to fetch the antidote; of course I was unaware that Steed himself had also been injected. Somehow, somehow we won.” He stopped speaking looked up into Kasia’s cool violet gaze. “We won,” he said, “so why the nightmare?”

She gently stepped off the bed, “Yes, you won. Did you take the time to let your mind come to terms with that? Your body to decompress?”

Gambit sighed, “No. We went out for an early supper and then I just had to get away. I kept thinking – my mind kept running ahead – gods!” He put his head in his hands.

Kasia laughed, “I think that the incident and then your crash has scrambled your brains a little. Once you’re rested and feeling more like yourself things will slot back into place.”

“And if they don’t?” He demanded.

“Worry about that when it happens,” Kasia replied. “ _If_ it happens. How’s the head?”

“Throbbing a bit,” Gambit admitted.

“I’ll fetch you two paracetamol and you can settle down.”

“All right,” Gambit closed his eyes and heard her moving away.

She returned within ten minutes carrying two white pills in a plastic container, “Here,” she said. “And then get some rest. You need to be almost yourself when your friends arrive.”

“Friends?” Gambit frowned.

“I telephoned Steed and I can’t imagine him arriving without the third member of your triad.”

“Purdey,” he breathed.

“Purdey,” Kasia acknowledged. She watched as he took the pills and when he’d replaced the cup on the table she took both his hands in her own, “there is one thing I want you to think about,” she said gently, “is it possible that your consideration for Purdey’s well-being is in fact something more?”

A hot flush spread up Gambit’s face and he had to bite his lip, “I dunno,” he muttered.

“Ah,” Kasia remarked, “have you told her?” And when no answer was forthcoming she squeezed his hands and said, “look at me.” Finally he raised his eyes to meet hers and she said, “tell her. I know you think that you have all the time in the world but I can assure you from experience you don’t. If you want more than a good friend and partner; tell her.” Kasia smiled, “if she reciprocates then you’re the luckiest man on the planet. But you have to tell her.”

“I’ll think about it,” Gambit promised. As she turned to switch the light off he laid a hand on her arm, “how do I not have that dream again?”

“Keep saying to yourself, ‘Purdey’s alive’,” Kasia suggested. “If that doesn’t work we’ll move onto something else.”

Gambit nodded, his eyelids already drooping again, Kasia laid his hand on the coverlet and was surprised when he reached for it, “Don’t go.”

“All right,” she conceded. “I’ll stay. At least until your friends arrive.”

He nodded drowsily and then he was asleep again. She watched him for a few moments and then slowly released a quiet sigh of relief. She should be used to dealing with altered states, but on occasion some people had the ability to make her nervous. She eyed the sleeping man thoughtfully, she’d only ever encountered someone else as driven as he was, and that been almost ten years ago. Gambit’s eyelids flickered and he twitched muttering in his sleep, “Purdey, Purdey, no-no-”

Kasia bent over him and spoke firmly and clearly, “Purdey is safe. She’s alive.”

Somehow the word seemed to seep into his subconscious and he settled down again. Kasia sighed, if this kept up, it was going to be a _long_ night. Thankfully he seemed to have only one further ‘episode’ and she reacted the same way, leaning over him and speaking slowly and forcefully until he settled. As the pearl-grey dawn seeped through the crack in the top of the curtains Kasia realised that Gambit was finally asleep. Finally allowing herself to relax she regarded his face fondly, now perhaps she could turn  his care over to one of the other physicians and get some much-needed rest.

She had just stepped into the corridor when she heard the cool, well remembered voice and turned to smile into the face of Major John Steed. The young, blonde woman behind him reminded Kasia of a spring; all coiled power and contained energy. Kasia could feel the tension radiating from her like a beacon. “You must be Purdey,” she said, holding out her hand, “he’s been asking for you.” Which was true, even if it had been in the throes of his nightmares.

Purdey’s gaze raked her from her head to her toes; the cool blue eyes assessing her, “Hello,” she said softly.

“Go and sit with him,” Kasia ordered quietly, “he’s asleep at the moment but I know he’ll be glad to see you when he awakens.” Purdey needed no further urging; her hand was already on the door and she was pushing it open and slipping into the room.

Steed regarded Kasia sympathetically, “You look like you’ve been through the wringer. Was it bad?”

“It was-” Kasia fumbled for the word, “unexpected.”

“Problems?” Steed’s eyes became sympathetic.

“Only when he tried to escape,” Kasia replied, “the other episodes I could handle.” To her everlasting shock and surprise she was suddenly enfolded in Steed’s strong, warm arms and she heard his unique baritone next to her ear, “Thank you, Kass.”

He released her, pink and gasping and then ever the gentleman he touched the brim of his bowler, “Dr Nowak, a pleasure, as always.”

“Steed,” she acknowledged. “Go see your friend. I’ll be in in a few moments to discuss his discharge.”

Steed nodded and then he too was pushing open the door. Kassia watched the spot where he’d been standing for a few moments and then putting a hand over her mouth to stifle a yawn, she went in search of a very strong cup of coffee.

Purdey was standing at the foot of the bed, her blue eyes surveying Gambit’s supine form. Steed laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, “You all right?”

Purdey turned her head and managed a short, tight nod. Carefully, Steed guided her to the chair and pushed her down into it. She took Gambit’s hand giving it a gentle squeeze as she did so.

Gambit surfaced slowly, he could feel the gentle hand holding his own and the smell of familiar perfume. Carefully he opened his eyes and stared up into Purdey’s face, a smile creased the strong mouth, “Hello, Purdey-girl,” he murmured.

“Mike,” Purdey replied softly her left hand coming up to lay itself alongside his face.

Gambit blinked in puzzlement, “Purdey?” He asked, still half-convinced he was dreaming.

“Yes,” she assured him, her blue eyes holding his. Mike blinked again and tried to think through his fuddled brain.

Another face appeared over Purdey’s shoulder and Gambit recognised the third member of their group, “Steed,” he croaked.

“Gambit,” Steed acknowledged, “you had us worried there for a few hours.”

Gambit was about to reply when the door opened and Kasia entered, a clipboard held in her left hand. Steed turned and smiled, unleashing the full force of his charm.

Kasia gave him a wry grin in return, “You don’t need to unleash your charisma on me, John. You bespelled me long ago.”

“I believe the experience was mutual,” Steed replied, “are those Mr Gambit’s discharge forms?”

“They are indeed,” Kasia replied, “if I can get you to sign these Major Steed. You know the drill.”

“As always, Captain,” she started at his use of her rank and then smiled. Steed signed the forms and then Kasia cleared her throat, “right; the originals are yours for Mr Gambit’s medical file – and I’ll have one of the nurses bring your clothes.” She handed the originals to Steed and then put the carbons on her clipboard.

Gambit caught her eye as she was leaving, “Thanks,” he managed, “for everything.”

“My pleasure, Mr Gambit,” Kasia replied, “look after yourselves. If that’s possible.”

“We will try, Kass,” Steed replied, “thanks again.”

“Look after them, Major,” Kasia murmured _sotto voce_ , “even if they are expendable.”

“I will, Captain Nowak,” Steed replied, “I promise.”

Just as she was leaving, Kasia saw the nurse lay Gambit’s clothes on the end of the bed and Purdey gleefully pick up a shiny silver medal and press it into Gambit’s hand. She heard his delighted response, “My Saint Christopher! I wondered where that had gone!” And then the door closed and she was alone in the corridor. She was wondering what to do next when a frazzled nursing sister emerged from the room opposite, “Oh, Dr Nowak, I’m so pleased you’re here.  Mr Willis has locked himself in the closet again-”

“I’m coming, Sister,” Kasia sighed, and took one final look at the closed door behind her before following her colleague.

 

**End**


End file.
